


The Right Direction

by RedfieldandNivans



Series: Random Nivanfield Shorts [5]
Category: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse), NivanField - Fandom
Genre: Bittersweet, Chris is there for Piers, Cvirus, Dorks in Love, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Jill is always there for Chris, Living together on base, M/M, Making Up, Nivanfield origins, Piers recovery, Post RE6, Recovery, Uncertainty, adjusting to life after the events of RE6, painful in the sweetest way
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-25
Updated: 2017-05-25
Packaged: 2018-11-04 19:51:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10997820
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedfieldandNivans/pseuds/RedfieldandNivans
Summary: Chris feels very out of his element when it comes to taking care of Piers, despite the fact that they are growing closer than ever. Jill gives her old partner some solid advice that pushes the Nivanfield pair in the right direction.A short one-shot about getting back on track.





	The Right Direction

**Author's Note:**

> Theme Song: “Arrange” by Succession Studios (instrumental)
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4V7Os5EHs1Q

 

“You get more beautiful with age, you know that?”

“With ‘age’?” Jill snickered, “I hope you haven’t been practicing that line.”

“Only in my head for the last five minutes,” Chris’ normally somber eyes crinkled playfully. “Admit it: despite my less than stellar one-liners you still want me.”

“When did I _ever_ say I wanted you?”

“You never had to.” His grin grew wide and cheeky. It had Jill rolling her eyes, her smile matching his as they spun around the dance floor somewhat ineptly to a slow song they didn’t recognize.

“You haven’t changed a bit.”

“Yeah, but that’s what you like about me.”

“How many drinks have you had, Chris?” She sniffed at him. He smelled fresh – like he’d just hopped out of the shower- it almost covered the scent of beer coming from him. Almost.

“A few. Why does it matter?”

“I can tell because you always make a point of hitting on me when you’ve been drinking.”

“That’s not true.”

She raised an eyebrow at his frown.

“I hit on you _all_ the time.” He countered matter-of-factly. “You only seem to notice my advances when I have a few in me.”

“’Advances’? Advancing implies you’re actually getting somewhere.” She teased, knowing full well her best friend wasn’t actually trying to get into her pants, and even if he was she had no intention of letting him. “And didn’t you swear you weren’t going to drink another drop? I think I was there when I heard you make that vow a few months ago.”

“Desperate times, Blue. So where’s your _boyfriend_ tonight?” Chris changed the subject as the song changed tempo.

“Where’s _yours?_ ” Jill’s counter was flawless and it had Chris looking away at their fellow party attendees with a short laugh.

“If you’re referring to Piers, he’s at home eating everything we own right now.”

Jill grew serious. “He’s got an appetite, then. That’s a good sign.”

“Yeah, good for him. Bad for my wallet. He eats like a college kid.”

“Why don’t you take him out somewhere with you? Maybe go for groceries or something. He can get some fresh air and you can do something together that’s not therapy or work-related. I’m sure he’d appreciate the break from routine,” she encouraged.

Chris spun his former partner and pulled her back to him before releasing her. He let her pale hand slip from his, not feeling the dance so much anymore. “Routine is all he has right now.”

“Chris,” Jill followed her friend off the dance floor, holding the front length of her dress out of the way so she didn’t trip on it. “He has _you_ too,” she reminded him. “Don’t downplay your role in his recovery.”

Chris took a flute of Champagne from a passing server’s tray and handed it to her.

“Yeah. Some good I’m doing him.”

The confidence he’d been exuding moments ago had all but vanished from his well-dressed form. Jill noticed his shoulders and brows seemed to lower in defeat, and suddenly his presence here at the party made sense.

“You’re avoiding him,” she guessed.

Chris looked uncomfortable. His eyes scanned the party tables for a suitable drink of his own. Anything would do at this point; anything but that sweet shit they were serving.

“Lucky guess,” he murmured.

“Go home Chris,” she instructed him gently. When he made a move to go she stopped his search for a drink with a hand to the front of his dinner jacket. “He needs you.”

“See, I knew you’d say that.”

“Of course you did. That’s why you came here tonight. To have me tell you what you already know.” She set down her glass on a nearby table and reached up to adjust her friend’s hastily fixed tie.

Chris sighed, looking over her head at the other members and their dates having a good time.

“I’m no good at this, Jill.”

“You’re an excellent Captain,” she assured.

“No, that’s not what I’m talking about…”

“You’re an excellent partner too, Chris.” Having succeeded in making him more presentable, she brushed his broad shoulders proudly, straightened the collar of his jacket, gave his chin an upward nudge and took a step back to look him over.

“Who am I to help Piers get back on his feet? I’m barely standing on my own two feet as it is. _I mean look at me_. You just dressed me for god’s sake.”

“I am looking at you. And I have to admit you sure put on a show,” she scoffed. “You really have us all believing Chris Redfield has his shit together.”

Truth was he was standing just fine on his own. But then it was hard to reflect on oneself without a mirror. Piers was his mirror. Chris just couldn’t see that because he was looking at the wrong partner.

“Are you mocking me?” he frowned.

“Yes.”

“Don’t mock me. I’m being serious. I’m in unfamiliar territory here and you’re supposed to be the one I can talk to about it.”

“What do you want me to do, Chris?” She was giving him that sideways look. The one she used on him whenever he was beginning to sound pathetic.

“ _I don’t know_ ,” he sighed and took a seat, slumping down into it heavily. “Fix things. Do that thing you do where you make me feel like less of an incompetent fool and more like a guy who can handle this shit.”

Jill knelt in front of him, causing a few of their fellow agents to whistle and catcall at the suggestive positions they had taken up. One less-than-amused look from Chris had the jeering and jokes silenced.

Jill ignored their audience, “Alright, you want me to fix this? Listen to me very carefully and do exactly as I say. Yes?”

Skeptical of the instructions to follow, but willing to do what she said, Chris motioned for her to continue.

 _“Yes?_ You have to do this, Chris. Exactly as I say or things are not going to get better.”

“Okay, fine. Yes.”

“I want you to get up from this chair—“

“Okay…”

“I want you to go home—“

Chris groaned in protest.

“—and await further instructions.”

_“Jill.”_

Chris winced at the wet kiss planted squarely on his brow courtesy of two glossed lips.

“You have your orders, Captain.”

 

\----

 

Piers was sitting on the front steps under the porch light with the moths when Chris pulled up to the house.

“Hey bud,” he greeted him, shutting the truck door and pocketing his keys. “What’re you doing out here in the dark?”

“Waiting,” Piers gave him a small smile and pulled down the hood of his navy blue sweater as the other approached. Chris settled down on the step below him and loosened his tie. The Captain looked good in uniform. Always had.

“Waiting? For what? _Me?”_

He could be real cute sometimes too; Clueless, but still endearing.

“No. Waiting for the Easter bunny.”

“Oh.” Chris looked disappointed. “Well I didn’t want to have to tell you like this but…” he fished his keys back out from his pocket and held up the aged rabbit’s foot he kept attached to the chain. “… there’s been a terrible accident.”

Piers laughed, “The poor bastard!”

His laughter was a rare thing these days. The mere sound of it brightened Chris’ spirits by several volts.

“I thought you weren’t coming back tonight,” the sniper admitted.

“Where else would I go?”

That wasn’t the answer Piers had been looking for but he’d take what he could get.

“I don’t know. Some foxy _thang’s_ place. After the rough start we had here at the house I figured you’d rather be out blowing off some steam…. _or blowing a load,"_ the younger man chuckled and rubbed a hand through his hair sheepishly _._  It sounded stupid to say it, but Piers couldn't blame the guy if he did find someone to go home with once in a while. It wasn't far-fetched to think there were people out there willing to take Chris Redfield home if the opportunity arose... _  
_

Chris shook his head like the very idea was incomprehensible, “I always come back.”

Piers looked him in the eye. “I know.”

When Piers didn’t take his eyes off him for a time, Chris gave him a questioning look.

“I wonder sometimes… why you keep coming back to me.”

Chris considered answering with a lighthearted, _‘because we live in the same house,’_ but couldn’t bring himself to say it. Piers was being serious. He owed it to him to answer in kind. The truth was he’d been acting harshly toward the younger man on account of feeling inadequate. It was difficult to own up to out loud.

“Because,” Chris reasoned, “You’re my guy.”

Piers couldn’t help but chuckle at how lame that sounded, even coming from him.

“Ah. Well that explains why you ditched me for the ball tonight.”

“I didn’t—“ Chris’s defense faltered. Lying wasn’t going to do either of them any good. Besides, it was hard to lie about being in full dress. Only so many places one could attend in attire like that.

“I should have taken you with me, I’m sorry.”

Piers moved down a step to sit next to him and plucked some grass growing between the rails. “You need to get away sometimes. I get it.”

Chris fell silent and Piers took the opportunity to say what had been on his mind since his partner had left the house that afternoon.

“I don’t… I don’t have to stay here, Chris. I can find another place to live if that would make this easier on us.”

_Us._

_Was that the right term to use?_ Piers wasn't certain.

“Say the word and I’ll start looking…” he whispered, his focus on the blade of grass between his fingers. Anything was better than seeing the hurt expression he was sure Chris was sending his way.

Chris reached a strong arm around his partner and pulled him tight to his side, careful not to dig his fingers too deep into the still healing tissue of the sniper’ rib area. Piers shimmied in close, forgetting his preoccupation with the grass in favor of the affectionate gesture.

“This is where you belong. _Here._ With _me._ ” Chris reassured. “If I’ve made you think otherwise— ah shit, I know I haven’t been the ideal companion lately…. ”

“That makes two of us,” Piers agreed, smiling to himself. It felt nice to have Chris hold onto him like this. It gave him hope they could be more than what they currently were to each other. “Thanks for putting up with me and my moods...”

“It’s funny,” Chris mused, “you know I really can’t imagine being here with anyone else.”

“That’s because no one else is brave enough to live with you, Captain.”

“Smart ass.”

“Hey, leave my ass out of this.”

“Oh it’s too late now.”

“…Chris?”

“Hm?”

“You work tomorrow?”

“Seven to seven,” he sighed. “Why?”

Piers rested his head against the warm shoulder next to him. “I was hoping we could go somewhere.”

“Going stir crazy in the house?”

“Like it’s no one’s business.”

Chris chuckled and Piers lifted off his shoulder. “What, is it that hard to imagine me losing it?”

“Actually I’m surprised you lasted this long without saying anything.” Chris rubbed a hand over his back soothingly, “You have a place in mind?”

Piers closed his eyes at the pleasant sensation. “Not here.”

Chris chuckled at that. “Are we talking about a vacation?”

“No. I don’t think you’re capable of going on vacation.” the sniper chuckled. “I’m thinking… something far more sinister. Something that would require all of our skills to achieve.”

“Now you have my attention.”

“It’ll be dangerous.”

“Count me in.”

“Do you even know what I’m talking about?”

“Playing hookie?”

“You think you can pull it off?”

“It’s not impossible…”

Piers brightened at the notion. “Really?”

“Jill owes me a favor. I’m sure I could slip away for an afternoon.”

“The Legendary Redfield skipping work to run away with his Team Lead. The whole base would explode if word got out of it.”

“We’ll have full press coverage, I’m sure.”

“I’ll need an alibi. You know, in case someone accuses me of enjoying myself.”

Chris grabbed him up in a playful headlock. “Well we can’t have Nivans cracking a smile, can we?!”

Piers struggled in Chris’ grip for a moment, but he was laughing too hard to break free. He resigned to his fate, holding onto the arm that held him fast.

“You know it’s good we had this talk because I have no idea where I’d go if you actually agreed that we shouldn’t live together right now," he admitted.

Chris’ grip on him loosened into a more affectionate hold, and he lowered his head to bump it gently against the younger man's as he hugged him. “I’m just sorry I let you believe I didn’t want you here with me. That's so far from the truth... god, I’m such an _ass_ ,” he apologized. “Go ahead, you can say it."

Piers closed his eyes, smiling, _“Chris. You’re an ass.”_

“Feels good, doesn’t it?”

Piers’ smile grew at that. It definitely did.

 

 

- _end_ -

 

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
